


Hooman

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 03:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19287121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis is a sleepy boy.





	Hooman

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s riding down the grand staircase before the Citadel on a horse dressed in Ignis’ pants, and it’s glorious. He’s summoned his sword for no particular reason—it just _feels_ cool—and the crowd of cat people applaud as he waves it around. Even the horse whinnies its approval. Noctis is the greatest king that ever lived. His father, having retired that morning in order to pursue a knit-sweater career instead, stands before the open gates with a tear in his eye. Noctis has never felt more fabulous.

His cell vibrates on the nightstand, but Noctis ignores it, because the royal cow is giving his acceptance speech and Noctis wants to hear that. It all sounds like _moo_ , but deep down, Noctis knows its full of praise and good wishes for his upcoming rule. He nudges the horse with his left boot and it gallops faster. He does a circle while the cow’s still mooing. Ignis, suspended over Noctis on a parachute that only goes up, shouts for him to slow down, but Noctis will never slow down. He’s the king of the world. Nothing can stop him.

The phone rings. That means it’s not a text, but an actual call. Which doesn’t make sense, because everyone’s already standing in the courtyard right in front of him, and his father outlawed phone calls after the great emoji war of ninety-six. The one on his nightstand is purely ceremonial.

Another ring, and the colourful celebration dissolves around him. He can feel the warmth of his blankets again, the dip in the mattress, and the sock that’s in danger of sliding all the way off his left foot. The last remnants of the dream melt into the ether, and all that’s left is someone frantically trying to call him. 

Noctis whines, even though there’s no one around to hear it. The phone doesn’t take the hint. It rings on, and he finally snatches it up, just so he can give whoever’s on the other end heck for pestering him in the middle of the night and waking him up.

He fumbles for the talk button and yawns instead of yelling, because he’s too tired to actually express his annoyance. 

Prompto’s familiar voice buzzes, _“Noct? Are you okay?”_

He’s never okay when he’s awake during the night. He likes his sleep. But he wants the conversation over as fast as possible so just grunts, “Fine.”

 _“You sure?”_

He mumbles into his pillow, “’M I supposed to not be?”

There’s silence on the other end. Noctis is just about to hang up when Prompto sighs, _“I’m sorry, man. I know it’s super later. I know I’m just being crazy. But I just had this really weird dream where Iggy and Gladio were taken over by aliens, and I tried to tell you, but you didn’t believe me, and then they got you, and I had to watch while they... they... and then... once you were infected, you were so weird, like, you said you were fine, but I knew you weren’t YOU, if that makes any sense. And it just kept going and going and it all felt so real, and then you asked me over for a sleepover, and I knew I shouldn’t go because then you’d turn me into one of them too, but I didn’t want to say no to you... so I asked you over to my house instead, so I could trap you in the closet at least until I could figure out how to turn you back, but I feel asleep while I was waiting, and then when I woke up, like... it was a dream, obviously it was a dream, but I just... I dunno, I know I’m crazy, I just had to be sure—”_

Half-asleep again, Noctis blearily interrupts, “’M not an alien.”

_“Could you swear?”_

“What?”

_“The aliens couldn’t swear. That was the first red flag that something was wrong. Could you just... say something inappropriate so I know it’s really you?”_

“Fucking Ifirit’s balls, Prom, it’s like two fucking a.m.. Titties. I can’t fucking believe you’re calling me with this stupid-ass shit, I’m fucking _human._ ”

_“...Thanks, bud.”_

“Good fucking night.”

_“Haha, ‘night. ...Sorry.”_

The phone clicks. Prompto’s hung up. Noctis lets his phone fall over the side of the bed because he can’t be bothered to find where his nightstand is in the pitch-black darkness of his bedroom. 

He shuts his eyes, and a few minutes later, he’s being elected the Grand Duke of the Sea.


End file.
